


The Only Thing That Looks Good On Me (Is You)

by distortedreality



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - High School, I set out to write a fic without smut and I fail again, M/M, Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 19:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10725909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distortedreality/pseuds/distortedreality
Summary: Derek is fairly certain the new kid is either an incubus or a witch. Turns out he’s actually his mate. Stiles is 98% certain the brooding guy in the leather jacket is fantasizing about stringing him up by his intestines. Turns out he’s also wrong.A High School AU in which Stiles is Derek’s mate and Derek leaves a dead deer on Stiles’ porch, buys a lot of fast food, and lies about economics.





	The Only Thing That Looks Good On Me (Is You)

The first thing Derek notices when he steps out of his family’s van is the smell. The scent of the forest is a perfect patchwork of vegetation, animals, rain, and the old leaves that form a damp carpet on the floor. The smell is that of his childhood, of misty winter mornings sitting on the porch swing that eventually broke one day when Derek and Cora attempted to wrestle each other on it, of running through the trees with his family under the bright full moon, of opening all the windows during summer when their air conditioner stopped working and laying on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor, the scent of the woods shifting through every room and settling on every surface. New York had been an assault on his senses in a whole different way. Though they had made frequent trips to the preserves surrounding the city, he had awoken every day to the sounds of sirens and the heaviness of smog settling in his lungs, the inability to shift in such a densely populated city pounding in his brain like a migraine and making his skin itch.

Stopping only to throw his bags through the front door, he pulled off his shirt and ran through the clearing, not bothering to wait until he was obscured by the trees to fall into a full shift. Derek ran until it was dark, stopping to drink from the various ponds littered about the preserve. When he stumbled through the front door long after the moon had risen his Mother only nodded at him and guided him toward the dinner table. Derek barely listened to his family chatter to one another over their plates, the sound weaving around him like a blanket, comforting him and helping him wind down from his impulsive run through the preserve. He hears Cora mention a boy and tunes out Laura teasing her about it. He doesn’t listen to his dad ponder a new paintjob for the outside of the house, the white peeling slightly in places from the harsh summer. He doesn’t tune in when his Mother mentions a new town Sheriff, one that isn’t as knowledgeable as to the supernatural happenings of the town as the previous one had been. Derek doesn’t verbalize aside from a few grunts until he leaves the table with a curt statement. He hears his Mother sigh as he walks away.

“He’ll come around, Talia,” his dad says softly. Derek doesn’t turn around, just keeps climbing the worn stairs.

“Maybe he’ll find someone this year?” Cora perks up.

Laura cuts her off. “Like Derek would ever let anyone get close enough to him to actually have a girlfriend.” Derek squeezed his eyes closed and pressed his face into the pillow. Laura was wrong, as usual. Derek would never had even agreed to go on the trip to New York if his relationship with Paige hadn’t petered out over the end of the previous school year. Though it hadn’t been serious, it hadn’t exactly ended well and Derek had effectively fled the state so as to avoid seeing her with whatever jock she had moved on with.

Laura had done her best to set him up with various girls in New York, and he had shot them all down more curtly than was strictly necessary. Laura had kept sending him the same type, blonde girls with short skirts and glossy lipstick and black town cars, girls who giggled at everything he said even when he _knew_ it wasn’t funny. Laura had stopped sending them after Derek had declared that perhaps it was actually _her_ type and she was just trying to use Derek as a tester for her potential suitors. Or suitoresses? Either way, Laura hadn’t taken kindly to it, as she often didn’t when the joke was turned around on her. Derek’s saving grace was that Laura would no longer be at the high school with them, leaving her unable to meddle in Derek’s love life in between classes, and Cora had never tried to insert herself into that part of Derek’s life. Not that there had ever _really_ been one to meddle in. His relationship with Paige had lasted a month and they’d barely kissed, and he hadn’t felt the need to ask for more. Derek would say he was depressingly single, if he actually cared about the position. He shook his head and burrowed further into his pillow, pushing the thoughts of his eternal virginity from his mind.

 

***

 

The smell of the high school parking lot was reminiscent of New York in a roundabout way. The cheap cars pushed fumes into the air, and the scent of cologne had become an assault on Derek’s werewolf nose when he hit middle school and all the boys started dousing themselves in Axe. A new smell pulled at the back of Derek’s brain, and he turned to search for it. The dregs he could make out from where it was buried under the waves of teenage hormones emanating from his classmates smelled like spices and something sweet, like chocolate or raw sugar. He moved through the lines of cars, darting between full backpacks and kids leaning on the hoods of their cars. Once he rounded the side of a blue Hyundai the scent hit him like a ton of bricks. It stopped him in his tracks, causing him to nearly get taken out by a red Kia – of all the cars to be hit by he almost felt insulted that it would be a _Kia_ – and forcing him to jump to the side, knocking into a boy with big brown eyes and moles dotting his cheek. Derek opened his mouth to make a snide comment when he realized the scent was coming off of the kid who was steadying him with a hand on his arm.

“You alright, dude?” the boy asked. Derek was pretty sure he had been hit by some kind of curse, because he couldn’t speak. Fucking witches. His Mom would go apeshit if it was witches again. But no, not a witch because the boy had to be an incubus of some kind, one that drew in its prey through scent over anything else. Not to say the boy wasn’t attractive, but Derek still _couldn’t talk._ The boy cleared his throat and laughed nervously, patting Derek’s arm and stepping back. “Well, uh, nice chatting with you,” he joked, practically running in the other direction. Derek’s eyes tracked him as he walked, his hand running through his hair enough in the time Derek studied him that he was pretty sure the guy had a tick, his backpack jumping slightly on his back with each step. Derek couldn’t stop watching. He just about jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

“Hey, Derek,” Isaac smiled. He motioned for them to start walking and it took Derek a minute to remember how to use his legs again. “… good time in New York?”

“Sorry, what?” Derek narrowed his eyes and watched the crowd, trying to lock onto the boy again. He could smell which way he had gone, but not having him in his sights was making him jittery.

“I asked if you had fun in New York,” Isaac supplied. Either he was walking way faster than normal or Derek’s legs were needing to buffer in between steps.

“As much as could be expected being stuck in an apartment with my family for three months,” Derek muttered. He would normally segway into any news of Isaac’s life, preferring to hear his friend talk rather than censoring details of his stories so as not to include anything supernatural, but his head was ridiculously clouded. He waved to Isaac as they split down different hallways, and immediately made a beeline for Cora who was standing at her locker surrounded by a group of friends.

“Hey, Derek.” One of the girls with dark curly hair waved at him and the rest giggled. Derek didn’t like how much she’d dragged out the ‘y’ on the ‘hey’.

“What’s up?” Cora asked, pushing an armful of books into her locker. Derek pulled her a few steps away from her friends, leaning up against the wall of lockers to keep himself balanced.

“Do you notice anything different?” Derek whispered. “Any weird smells or feelings?” Cora shook her head.

“You’re being just as weird as normal, Der,” she sighed. “Come on, let me introduce you to Teresa. She’s the one with the good legs. Well, I say introduce because I doubt you’ve paid attention to any of my friends despite having met them a number of times. She’s cute, trust me.”

“Have you and Laura swapped bodies? Why are you invested in this all of a sudden?” Derek’s eyes darted around the hallway. The weird pulling feeling in his chest felt like a rubber band being stretched to capacity. He didn’t want to find out what would happen when it snapped.

“I just want you to be happy, Der. Or get laid. If I get one of my friends to suck you off will you stop being so moody? It’s a real downer.” Cora’s arms were crossed over her chest as she waited for Derek’s response.

“I’m not talking about this right now. Or ever, actually,” Derek hissed. His chest was starting to feel like it might explode. “So nothing’s feeling weird for you?”

“No,” Cora sighed. “Think about what I said, ok?” Derek ignored her, instead turning on his heel and walking down the hallway away from the chorus of laughter from Cora’s friends.

The pull in his chest didn’t lessen until lunch period, when Derek shuffled into the cafeteria with Erica who was chattering about something her parents had done over the summer break. Something involving the beach, he was sure, because he was absolutely listening. Derek wondered how his life had become a complete and total cliché when he laid eyes on the boy from the parking lot and his world went silent. One moment the sounds of the cafeteria were a deafening mix of murmured voices, the clang of metal on metal, and the obsessive pings of the smartphones littered on every table, and the next all he could hear was the sound of the heartbeat of the boy sitting at a table near the west facing windows. The light was filtering in and hitting his cheekbones, showcasing the moles dotting his cheek and making his eyes light up a gold colour that Derek could see from across the room. He was mid laugh at something Scott McCall had said, his mouth stretched open and his chin resting on his hand. It wasn’t until Erica cleared her throat that Derek realized he had stopped dead in his tracks, forcing the wave of students to move around him.

“You ok?” Erica asked, her eyes searching his face.

“Yeah, sorry. Just got distracted for a second there.” Derek rubbed the back of his neck and stepped in line to grab a lunch tray. Erica studied the room for a moment before smirking at Derek.

“Checking out the new kid?” she asked. Derek didn’t like the ways her eyes glittered. It never ended well for him when Erica started scheming.

“I think there’s something wrong with him,” Derek muttered before he could help himself.

“Yeah, you might want to pick a new opener if you want him to go out with you. Or have any reaction other than punching you in the jaw,” Erica scoffed. “He’s definitely cute, if you like the whole Bambi thing.”

“Shut up,” Derek replied. The meat on his lunch tray looked like it had been run over by a car which, coincidentally, is how Derek felt.

“Derek’s got a crush,” Erica announced to their lunch table. Which thankfully only consisted of them, Isaac, and Boyd, or else Derek might have had to kill her.

“I _don’t,_ ” Derek cried, mashing up his unidentifiable meat with his fork. If he mashed it hard enough maybe Erica would stop talking. Apparently it was just wishful thinking, because she was directing Isaac and Boyd’s attention to the boy in a manner that was less subtle than a gun. She was full out pointing and Derek had to restrain himself from slapping her arm karate chop style.

“That’s the new kid, he’s in my economics class,” Boyd supplied around a mouthful of fries. “His names weird, starts with an ‘S’ I think.”

“Fantastic,” Erica cried, clapping her hands together. “You can be Derek’s in.”

“I don’t need an _in,_ ” Derek cried. “Please don’t try to be my in.” Boyd just laughed.

“We’re just trying to be supportive of your crush, Der,” Erica simpered, twirling a strand of blonde hair around her finger.

“ _I don’t have a crush,_ ” Derek yelled loud enough for the two girls on the neighboring table to shoot him questioning looks. Derek just dropped his head to the table.

 

***

 

“Why is Erica Reyes pointing at you?” Scott asked through a mouthful of something which the cafeteria had advertised as chicken nuggets. It was not chicken nuggets. If there was one thing Stiles knew, it was his nuggets.

Stiles followed Scott’s eyes to a table diagonally across the cafeteria from them, closer to the vending machines. Which he should probably become acquainted with if he was going to survive the crap Beacon Hills High School was calling food.

“I doubt that’s what’s happening here,” Stiles snorted. He pushed around the serve of salad on his plate. _Salad._ He ate enough of it at home as a gesture of solidarity towards his dad, he definitely didn’t need it at school too, but the salad had been the only item on the lunch menu that looked like it was made in that century.

“Uh, that’s definitely what’s happening,” Allison interjected. Stiles glanced up to see who he guessed was Erica, along with a cute guy with blonde curls and the dude from his economics class staring at him. Erica was pointing and it was definitely directed at him. Stiles was weirdly intimidated by her nails, he could see the gleaming black polish from across the room.

“Well that’s what happens with the new kid, isn’t it? If I’m believing _Twilight,_ anyway. And this is possibly the only occasion where I will ever willingly compare my life to _Twilight._ ” Stiles turned his attention back to the chicken nugget imposters on Scott’s tray. He felt sorry for them. He studiously attempted to ignore the stares he could feel burning into his face when a burst of laughter sounded from across the room and Stiles looked up to see his future murderer sitting next to Erica. Oh shit. The table was scouting him out as a murder victim for the brooding guy in the leather jacket. Stiles was 98% sure the guy wanted him dead. Sure, he’d collided with him out in the parking lot, but that didn’t exactly give him an excuse to murder Stiles. He’d been staring at him in the halls all day, not to mention how he’d _followed him_ in through the doors that morning. Stiles had darted through the crowd and stood behind one of the ridiculously buff lacrosse players in order to escape. When his dad decided to move them to Beacon Hills he expected his first day at his new school to be full of stumbling around blindly through the halls and making an ass of himself in front of his new classmates. What he didn’t expect was walking around feeling like he should have hired a freaking bodyguard, or at least gotten himself a concealed carry permit. Because apparently BHHS’ resident James Dean lookalike wants to string him up by his intestines. Or something like that. Stiles let out a small groan and Allison smirked at him.

“Just noticed our resident Abercrombie model, huh? Didn’t know he’d be your type,” she teased. Scott just looked confused.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I won’t make it to the end of the school year with that guy around. Because I’ll be dead. Fully dead. Because he will have killed me.”

Allison rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be dramatic, Stiles. Maybe he likes you?”

“We’re not in first grade anymore, you don’t attract people by threatening physical harm through your glares.”

“You never know,” Scott said, jabbing a boney elbow into Stiles’ side. “He’s an odd guy. Maybe that’s like his mating call or something.”

“You should smile at him or something. Maybe if he likes you he won’t kill you?” Allison was a genius.

 

***

 

Derek was convinced beyond a doubt that the new kid was an incubus. He’d had never lost concentration in such a way before, and when he’d run into the kid coming around a corner he’d wanted to rub his face all over his neck. Like, he had to physically restrain himself or it would have happened. It was getting ridiculous. The kid was apparently everywhere now, popping up next to Derek in the cafeteria line, and setting up on a library table right next to Derek’s. Derek had never been so hyperaware of someone in his life, feeling every beat of the kid’s heart in his own chest. It was ridiculous. He’d cornered his Mother and asked her to look into the incubus issue, but she just told him he “had a crush”. So since his Mother was apparently not going to check out what clearly needed to be investigated, Derek had sunk to using Erica as bait.

“Just go over and do … something,” Derek waved his hands in the kids general direction. “Be flirty, touch his arm, _anything._ ”

“Derek Hale, do you have a jealous streak?” Erica’s smile was so wide Derek was beginning to get scared. “If you want to make a move just do it, you don’t need me to pretend to be interested first.”

“ _Please,_ ” Derek whined. Erica rolled her eyes but did as he asked, asking the kid in a lilting voice if he needed any help finding anything in the library. The kid was ridiculously sweet rebuffing Erica, and it made something in Derek’s chest tighten. Derek waited for Erica to begin to feel the effects of the magic, but instead she walked back to the table with a frown on her face.

“He’s not interested,” she scowled. Derek smirked, feeling another rush of affection in his chest before he pushed it away. He didn’t even know the kids name, so he had no reason to feel like freaking angels were singing whenever he saw the kid smile. Which was directed at him. Fuck. The kid smirked and raised a hand to wave at Derek. His fingers were hypnotizing, and Derek could only stare at them. They were long and skinny and what Derek wouldn’t give to have them in – nope not going there.

“Oh wow,” Erica muttered, staring at Derek’s starstruck face. “You’ve got it bad.”

“I _don’t,_ ” Derek cried.

 

***

 

He did. After plenty of research and even more self-reflection Derek had come to the conclusion that the new kid was his _mate_ or something equally ridiculous. Now that he’d finally acknowledged the possibility, his wolf was howling for joy inside of him.

“Oh fuck,” Derek muttered as he finished reading the passage. The lore described his feelings as somewhat of a more intense form of mate-ship or whatever the hell it was called, and apparently if Derek didn’t give in to it his wolf would take over. Or something. Derek groaned. He didn’t even know the kids name and now he was supposed to _court_ him. Derek pushed away thoughts of the kid’s wide smile, and gorgeous eyes, and his _laugh_ – Derek smashed his head down on his desk. His wolf clawed at the surface, begging him to seek the boy out. Derek held back the shift. No matter how much he needed it he couldn’t trust his wolf to listen to him, and showing up on the kid’s doorstep shifted would definitely not bode well for anything aside for Derek either getting arrested, or the kid getting sent to an insane asylum. And the shit the lore wanted him to do – show evidence of ability to provide, show evidence of ability to protect, show vulnerability – Derek didn’t even know _what that meant._ Or possibly didn’t want to know. He might die of frustration and embarrassment before his wolf even had the chance to take over.

 

***

 

The next day Derek knew it was all over. Literally, his life was over. Because when he laid eyes on the kid across the parking lot his whole world narrowed down to those two points on the Earth, and he was perilous to stop it. His self-control and especially his _dignity_ absolutely flew out the window. The force if which they evacuated was rivaled by nothing less than a hurricane, and Derek had to steady himself on his car to keep from falling over. The kid was literally making him weak at the knees. He had a moment of clarity to groan to himself before his brain clouded and the feelings took over. In the back of his brain he knew it was just an instinctual response, but his chest felt as though it would burst when the kid smiled at him as their eyes met. Suddenly going after him didn’t seem like such a bad idea. He was cute, funny – if Scott McCall’s booming laughter across the cafeteria was any indication – and possibly wouldn’t say no. Maybe. For all Derek knew the kid could smile like that at every person he saw. Derek hoped he didn’t. The problem now was, he had no idea how to go about approaching the kid. His research had turned up a very different relationship progression than what he would normally go for, and his wolf wouldn’t be sated until he started courting the boy. _Courting._ Derek felt like he was in a period novel.

 

***

 

“Stiles Stilinski,” Isaac declared in second period, dropping his backpack on the floor next to Derek and flopping down in the seat opposite him.

“I’ve told you before, Isaac, if you’ve contracted an STI I don’t need to know about it,” Derek muttered, not looking up. “Ow,” he yelled when Isaac lobbed a book at him.

“The new kid’s name is Stiles Stilinski, you dick. His dad’s the new sheriff and he tried out for the lacrosse team yesterday.” The weird name made something inside Derek shift into place and he absolutely _beamed_ at Isaac.

“The lacrosse team, hey. Maybe I should join the team,” Derek mused. He was interrupted by Isaac’s extremely loud laughter.

“You? Play a team sport? You’d chew your own leg off before doing that.” Isaac was still laughing. Derek frowned at him.

“Maybe it’s time I changed then,” Derek huffed, throwing the missile-book back at his friend.

 

***

 

Derek was screwed. His wolf had screwed him. He was just lucky he’d managed to give Laura and Cora the slip when they were running the preserve under the full moon or else he may have died of embarrassment. Apparently his wolf had decided to get the ball rolling, and wanted to give Stiles some kind of weird wolfy gift. Of squirrels. The gift was squirrels. Dead squirrels. Because nothing gets someone going more than dead animals on their porch. Derek wasn’t even that bothered by it, which probably should have been a point of concern, aside from being terrified someone had seen him putting freaking _squirrels_ on Stiles’ porch. He didn’t want to start off with his mate thinking he was a budding serial killer. He crept back to Stiles’ house the next night, hoping that he somehow hadn’t seen Derek’s misguided attempts at affection, and instead stumbled within hearing range of a conversation Stiles was having with who Derek assumed was his dad.

“… tell one of the neighbours to reign in their cats, they’re leaving vermin all over the porch. It’s gross.” Derek was mildly offended that Stiles assumed a cat had brought him the squirrels and vowed to bring back something else. Clearly he wasn’t in his right mind. Stiles, that was. Maybe he just didn’t like squirrels?

Derek stuck around for a while after depositing the deer on Stiles’ porch. It was a large deer, and it had really taken it out of him lugging it there. Derek had searched for hours to find the best one. It was a really beautiful animal, with a glossy coat and big, expressive eyes that had regarded him with curiosity. He’d managed to kill it with minimal blood. He didn’t think Stiles would like it if it was covered in blood. Derek rested in the line of trees across the road from Stiles’ house, only leaving when one of Stiles’ neighbours noticed the deer and started to scream. Derek felt a twisted form of joy at hearing the woman. It must have been a pretty good kill for her to react like that. Hopefully Stiles would see that Derek was a good provider. He’d bring Stiles a deer every night if he asked him to.

 

***

 

“Oh. My god.” Stiles stopped halfway through the front door and stared at the animal on his porch. No, not an animal. A _carcass._ And a fucking big carcass at that. Apparently a mountain lion or something had decided to drag the biggest god damn deer in Beacon Hills onto their porch last night and leave it there. Stiles was actually kind of terrified. The deer was massive; bigger than anything Stiles had seen outside of the Discovery Channel. And the mountain lion would probably come back for it later which was just _great._

“Move to small town California he said, it’ll be great he said,” Stiles muttered to himself as he sidestepped the deer. His dad had already called someone to come pick up the carcass, but Stiles didn’t want to hang around waiting to see if the mountain lion got there first. He piled himself into the Jeep and drove to the school, spending more time watching for mountain lions on the sides of the road than keeping his eyes on the actual road. Clearly his dad had moved them to Beacon Hills in order to kill him.

Stiles met Scott at his locker before class, chatting about the day for about five seconds before Scott managed to steer the conversation towards Allison. Stiles didn’t even care that Scott was obsessed with his girlfriend – he was just happy to have Scott at all. Though they’d been friends when Stiles had lived in Beacon Hills when they were kids, ten years had passed since Stiles’ Mom had packed them up and moved them to Sacramento, and they’d managed to stay friends through it. Which was great, because otherwise the only person Stiles knew was the ridiculously hot guy with the murder stare.

Stiles and Scott parted ways and Stiles walked into his economics class. He hated economics. The teacher didn’t seem to care and was ridiculously bad at explaining the material. Taking it as an elective was definitely not Stiles’ smartest move. Stiles very nearly turned to the guy next to him to ask him to explain a concept, but he had biceps bigger than Stiles’ head and it kind of scared him. Scott was waiting outside the classroom for Stiles when he finished, and he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’ll never guess what just happened,” Scott began, clapping his hands together.

“Your Mom agreed to let Allison stay over and not tell her parents?”

“Better. Well, maybe not better, but equal.” Stiles was officially intrigued. He gestured for Scott to continue. “So you know Derek Hale, right?”

“Nope,” Stiles replied, popping the ‘p’.

“Dark, brooding guy who wears leather jackets? You said you thought he was going to murder you.” Scott looked exasperated.

“No, I know who you mean, I just didn’t know his name.” Stiles paused but Scott didn’t continue. “Oh come on, you can’t leave me hanging now.”

“Right, sorry,” Scott took a deep breath. “Well he cornered me before chemistry – like totally cornered me, he pushed me into a corner in the hallway – and asked about you. He like _growled_ at me and asked about you. It was kind of terrifying.”

“Wait _what?_ What did you even _say_ to that?” Stiles had grabbed onto Scott’s forearm at some point in the conversation and was now using it as an anchor. Because apparently he was being towed off to another dimension. One where hot brooding guys with murder stares asked his best friend about him. Oh wow.

“I just kind of blabbed. Like, I said you were my friend and you were new, and then he like _looked_ at me and it was freaking piercing and I started talking about how you hate the cafeteria food. I have no idea why I said that but Derek Hale now knows you only like it when it’s pizza Fridays which is super important information. Yep.”

Stiles just stared at him. “Oh fuck. He’s graduated to pushing my friend’s for my weak spots. At least he can’t use my hatred of the cafeteria food against me. In fact, that might actually kill me first.”

“No, Stiles, I think he’s _interested_ like Allison said.”

“Wait what?” Stiles asked. “Oh my god, he’s literally in kindergarten. A toddler wants to date me. What am I even supposed to do with this information? God, what is _he_ even supposed to do with that information? _Scott,_ ” Stiles cried. He would have shaken his best friend if he didn’t look so proud of himself.

Stiles didn’t see Derek before lunch, though he was definitely looking now. He really hoped the guy had cornered Scott with the intent of asking him out and not fishing for information so he could dispose of his body. He glanced over at Derek’s usual table, but he wasn’t sitting with his three friends.

Stiles was pushing his fries around on the lunch tray when he smelt it – the Holy Grail. Aka pepperoni pizza from Louigi’s on Fifth. He turned slightly to find out which lucky bastard didn’t have to suffer through the god awful cafeteria food when the box was plonked down in front of him. Unceremoniously; Stiles was pretty sure the box actually bounced. His jaw dropped when he saw Derek standing next to him.

“Uh, thanks,” Stiles tried, his eyes still wide. “Um, why…”

“Scott said you don’t like the cafeteria food.” As if that explained everything. Stiles didn’t get the chance to ask for further clarification because Derek had sauntered over to his usual table and slipped in next to the cute girl who had hit on Stiles in the library.

“What the hell just happened?” Stiles asked aloud. “What if he’s poisoned it?”

“Who cares,” Allison joked, opening the box and taking a slice.

“See, I told you,” Scott elbowed Stiles in the ribs and raised his eyebrows at him.

“I have no idea what to do with this,” Stiles declared.

“You eat the pizza, Stiles,” Scott supplied. He took a slice and bumped it with Allison’s in a mock cheers.

“Not the _pizza,_ Scott, the _principle._ ” Stiles waved his hands around in what was probably a maniacal fashion to anyone watching. “Does he expect me to make a move? Is the pizza some kind of innuendo?”

“Don’t overthink it.”

“Wow, thanks, Scott. That was super helpful.” Scott just flashed him a smile.

 

***

 

Stiles was stressing and it was all Derek Hale’s fault. For the rest of the day all Stiles could think about was innuendo pizza, and it certainly wasn’t helping his lacrosse ability, and that was something that needed all the help it could get. It also didn’t help that the lacrosse captain, Jackson Whittemore, was a complete and utter douchebag about it. Every shot he threw towards Stiles during practice went just slightly too wide for Stiles to catch it, and every opportunity he had to steal a catch from Stiles he took. Eventually Coach just yelled at Stiles to get off the field and take a seat. Stiles was pretty sure he would never actually get to play a game. The bench may as well start preparing itself because it’d probably have a very Stiles-shaped groove worn into it by the end of the season.

“Nice job out there, Stilinski,” Jackson whispered snidely as he pushed past Stiles at the end of practice. Stiles gritted his teeth and moved closer to the wall. Usually the end of practice signaled the end of humiliation, but apparently the good weather was making Jackson feel extra generous. The next morning he leant against Stiles’ locker and proceeded to tear down every inch of Stiles’ meager lacrosse talent.

“I love it when you wax poetry about my talents, honey,” Stiles hissed, balling up his fist. As he weighed up the euphoria of punching Jackson in the face versus the possibility of getting suspended in his first few weeks at a new school, Derek took care of it for him. In a split second Jackson was pressed against the locker with his books spilling into the hallway, and Derek’s hand clenched in the front of his shirt. Stiles was pretty sure he should be feeling scared at the display of aggression from the dude who he still wasn’t convinced didn’t want to drag him down an alleyway and shank him. Instead he was thanking the Gods silently for Derek’s choice to wear a short sleeved shirt, because the way his arm muscles bulged was truly a work of art.

“ _Don’t_ talk about Stiles that way. Do it again and I won’t ask so nicely,” Derek hissed. Jackson paused for a moment before nodding. Derek let him go but didn’t step back, forcing Jackson to fumble around him to pick up his books littering the floor.

“Uh, thanks,” Stiles said once Jackson was out of earshot. Derek nodded. “Thanks for the pizza as well. I didn’t really get to say it before, but it was a cool thing to do. So thanks.” Derek just nodded again. Stiles wasn’t really sure what to do with that.

“Can I have your number?” Derek asked after a pause. And _there_ it was. Finally. Stiles smiled at Derek and nodded so hard he thought he might give himself a crick in his neck. Derek handed him his phone and Stiles typed his number in. He had a momentary crisis when looking at the contact name field, wondering if he should make a joke name for himself or not. He hadn’t seen Derek laugh as of yet, but maybe he was just a really dry humor kind of guy. Stiles settled for his name followed by the pizza emoji. Incase Derek forgot. And oh wow, Stiles’ heart nearly fell out of his chest when Derek smiled at him. The genuine smile really lit up Derek’s face, wiping the moodiness away and making his eyes sparkle. Derek mumbled a “thanks” before walking off down the hallway, shooting a look back at Stiles over his shoulder like he was making sure Stiles was still there.

 

***

 

Stiles was cold. Well, cold was an understatement. _Freezing_ would have been closer to what Stiles was experiencing. Hypothermia also wasn’t far off. Beacon Hills was experiencing some kind of freak weather event that had dropped the temperature ridiculously, and Stiles hadn’t bothered to check the forecast before he’d left for school. Because he’s an idiot. As Scott had been saying all day. Stiles had shivered his way through first and second period and his nose was running like a tap and it was _shit._ It had gotten to the point where Stiles was considering just straight up skipping the rest of the day and hoping his dad didn’t kill him. Really, it was either death by frostbite, or death via his dad murdering him for skipping school. Each were equally painful.

“Dude,” Scott muttered sympathetically as Stiles sneezed yet again. At least he handed him a tissue. Top friend, Scott was.

Allison pulled a bright pink cardigan from her locker and held it out to Stiles. “You can borrow this as long as you don’t sneeze all over it.” Alright, so Stiles now had a third option: death by wearing Allison’s very feminine very pink cardigan for the rest of the day. That might have been an even more painful option than the previous two. Just as he was reaching for it with what was probably a supremely obvious grimace on his face, a warm hand fell on his very cold, very exposed forearm. Derek had shrugged off his leather jacket and was holding it out to him.

“Oh thank god,” Stiles muttered, grabbing the jacket without a second thought. He shrugged it on and was immediately hit with what was probably the scent of Derek. It smelt way too good. Illegally good. Then again, Derek probably was illegal. Nobody in high school should ever be that hot. Derek let out what sounded like a whine. Stiles looked up to see Derek staring at him like he wanted to _eat_ him.

“It looks good on you,” Derek said. And there was the smile again. Yep, definitely illegal. “I’ll keep a spare for you in my locker.” And Derek was walking back down the hallway again. The guy was like freaking Batman.

“Well that was nice of him,” Stiles said. Scott and Allison just stared.

“When are you going to introduce us to your boyfriend?” Allison teased, shoving the rejected cardigan back in her locker.

“Well technically Scott’s already met him. And he’s also not my boyfriend. He has my number, but that doesn’t exactly make it Facebook official.”

“You’re wearing his jacket.”

“I was cold.”

“He literally stopped in the hallway and took off his jacket so you could wear it. He now has no jacket.”

“Maybe he runs hot.”

“ _Stiles,_ ” Scott and Allison yelled at the same time. Stiles didn’t care. Derek’s jacket was super warm.

 

***

 

Seeing Stiles wearing his jacket damn near made Derek go off the deep end. Stiles’ usual scent wrapped up in the leather Derek wore nearly every day was the perfect combination to make his wolf preen. The jacket was on the big side, slipping down past Stiles’ wrists and hanging loose on his shoulders, and the visual was ridiculously endearing. At that point he wouldn’t have cared if Stiles never gave the jacket back, just as long as he kept wearing it. Derek would walk around all winter without it if he could see Stiles in it on a daily basis.

“So when are you going to introduce us to your boyfriend?” Isaac teased when they all sat down for lunch.

“Shut up,” Derek replied. He didn’t really mind the teasing, which Erica somehow immediately picked up on.

“Oooh, _Derek._ Look at him, his cheeks are all pink,” Erica cooed. Derek swatted at her, coming into contact with the side of her head. He glanced up to see Stiles balancing a sparsely filled lunch try on one hand as he darted through the tables with what was probably more hip wiggling than was necessary.

“It looks so cute on him,” Isaac cooed to match Erica, their eyes following Stiles as he made his way to his usual table. Derek blushed.

“Did you end up bringing those weird bar things to give to him?” Boyd asked.

“Boyd, you’re a genius,” Derek replied. He pulled out his phone, feeling a smile cover his face as he created a text conversation with Stiles’ number. He tapped out _check the front right pocket_ and waited for Stiles to reach into his jeans and pull out his phone. Stiles looked confused for a moment before digging into the pocket of Derek’s jacket, pulling out three protein bars. His face lit up and he looked up to meet Derek’s eyes. Derek ducked his head, but he couldn’t stop the smile spreading further across his face.

“You absolute _sly dog,_ Derek Hale,” Erica teased, jabbing his hand with her fork. Derek’s phone chimed to signal an incoming message. He hoped Stiles wouldn’t think it was super weird that he had watched him forgo the lunch menu for a handful of protein bars.

From Stiles: _how did you know I liked these?_

To Stiles: _you were eating them instead of the lasagna the other day_

From Stiles: _You’re a lifesaver_ _:) :)_

 

***

 

Derek shoved open the heavy front doors of the school and stalked across the parking lot. He’d spent the last hour in detention because Jackson fucking Whittemore had decided to rat him out for his method of persuasion. Not that it made him regret it even a little bit, because he’d been defending Stiles. Derek pulled out his keys and unlocked his car, which was the only one left in the parking lot at that point. Through the window during detention he’d seen a tow truck pull in through the gates after most of the cars had left and tow a blue Jeep out of the lot. Derek had spent the whole time it was in the lot staring to make sure the truck didn’t get too close to his car. His Mom would kill him if the paint got scratched.

Derek pulled the Camaro out of the lot, directing it down Tenth towards the turnoff for the preserve. He nearly drove off the road when he saw Stiles walking down the side of the road with his hands in his pockets. He was _wearing Derek’s jacket_. Derek pulled the car to the side of the road so fast he didn’t have time to check his mirrors. Stiles whirled around with wide eyes, his heart pounding like he was about to make a run for it. He relaxed marginally when Derek stepped out the car before widening his eyes again and shifting into what Derek thought was probably supposed to be a defensive stance.

“Why are you walking along the side of the road?” Derek asked. He stopped a few feet from Stiles and trained his eyes on his face. The scent of Stiles wearing his jacket somehow both calmed and excited his wolf.

“You look like you’re about to mug me,” Stiles replied. He slapped a hand over his mouth immediately afterwards, but Derek just smiled.

“Good to see you’re making use of the jacket.”

“Oh, right,” Stiles started. He dropped his backpack to the ground and began pulling off the jacket. Derek moved forward to stop him, pressing his hands to Stiles’ arms and preventing him from sliding the leather off further.

“Don’t take it off. It looks good on you,” Derek smiled. It took him a moment before he realized he should probably step back. The only thing that stopped him from doing so was Stiles looking like he didn’t mind the proximity all too much.

Stiles laughed in reply. “It’s about three sizes too big and hangs off me like a poncho, but thanks for lying.” His eyes sparkled in the light.

“I don’t mean the fit, I mean my clothes look good on you,” Derek supplied. Stiles’ heart was racing. Derek wanted to put his hand over it and bury his face in his mate’s neck to feel the blush that had spread over Stiles’ face. After a few moments Stiles started shifting on his feet.

“So why’d you stop?” He was looking at Derek so earnestly. It made his heart hurt. Derek didn’t even know what the correct answer to that question was. He’d stopped because he saw Stiles and that was it. He hadn’t paused to question his own motives.

“Uh … to see if you wanted a ride?” It came out sounding far more like a question than an answer, but at least it was an answer. Score one for Derek. The way Stiles’ face broke into a smile made Derek feel like he’d been awarded at least fifty more points.

“That’d be great,” Stiles squeaked. “My Jeep carked it today and I had to get it towed from the school parking lot. Super embarrassing.” Stiles threw his backpack in the backseat and slid into the Camaro. Derek decided right then that giving Stiles a ride home was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. Stiles’ scent was so potent in the enclosed space that Derek’s mouth went dry almost immediately. His hands tightened on the wheel as he filled his claws not to pop out. That definitely wouldn’t bode well for casual conversation.

“You must think I’m like ridiculously unprepared for life in general at this point, with the jacket and the car and everything.” Stiles had turned in his seat to watch Derek as they drove. Derek felt himself relax under the gaze, almost forgetting to reply to Stiles.

“Not at all,” he said politely. If he was honest he wanted Stiles to be even less prepared, because then he got to swoop in and _provide_ for him like the stupid lore had said. “It gives me an excuse to talk to you.” And, wow, that came out way sappier than Derek had intended for it to. Stiles didn’t seem to mind if the skip in his heartbeat was any indication.

“Well, then I’m glad,” Stiles replied, settling back into his seat. The rest of the drive was quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. Where Derek’s sisters would often try to fill any gap with inane conversation and would prod him to join in, Stiles was content to listen to the radio, giving Derek time to order his thoughts. It occurred to him that he probably shouldn’t just drive straight to Stiles’ house since he wasn’t actually supposed to know where he lived. Luckily Stiles saved him by pointing out the turnoff to his street as they drove through a break in the trees. Derek pulled in front of his house, noting how different the colour looked in the daylight versus the last time he’d been there. Which was when he’d been dragging a dead deer onto Stiles’ porch. Christ, Stiles could literally _never_ know that was him. Derek let the engine idle as he opened his door and walked around to the passenger side, pulling open the door for Stiles who was looking positively shocked.

“Did you have the child lock turned on for the passenger door?” Stiles asked, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder as he stepped out.

“Nope,” Derek replied. Stiles nodded.

“Well thanks. Again. Next time maybe it’ll be me who gets to help you out.”

“Not a chance,” Derek said. Stiles smiled. He paused for a second, leaning into Derek’s space slightly before pulling back and running a hand through his hair.

“Um, guess I’ll see you on Monday then?” He still hadn’t stepped away from Derek.

“Let me know if you need a ride. You do have my number, after all.”

“Yeah, I will,” Stiles said after a moment. Derek’s wolf positively preened at the response. “So … um … yeah, I’ll head inside now. To my home. Where I live.” Derek nodded. Stiles continued to babble. “The home that I share with my father. Who has a gun but will absolutely not shoot you if you ever decide to turn up. Scouts honor.”

“Bye, Stiles,” Derek smirked. He leaned against the car and watched Stiles walk up to the door. Derek was pretty sure Stiles spent more of the walk glancing backwards than he did actually looking at where he was going. Consequently he tripped over the newspaper lying on the front steps and cursed quietly, whipping his head around to see if Derek was still watching. He flushed red when he saw he was, but Derek just found it incredibly endearing. He waved in Stiles’ direction and Stiles stumbled over his porch and wrenched open the door. Derek could hear Stiles swearing under his breath as he closed the door.

 

***

 

When Derek’s Mother asked him to head out and pick up groceries the next night Derek was sure she didn’t intend for him to stumble across a robbery in progress at the 7-11 on the highway, but that was exactly what happened. Derek hadn’t been paying attention as he parked and walked through the doors, instead focusing on the memory of the shape of Stiles’ lips and the way the blush had spread across his cheeks when he’d told Stiles he liked him in his clothes, when he’d practically bumped the gun with his nose.

“Uh” was all he could muster up before the guy yelled at him to get on his knees. He was wearing a balaclava. Derek nearly asked him how cliché he wanted to be.

“Seriously, get down,” Balaclava yelled. The clerk was staring at him like he was insane. Which, to a human he probably did look. But unless Balaclava had loaded his pistol with wolfsbane bullets, Derek wasn’t even slightly afraid of him. Especially if he’d learnt all his criminal tricks from Hollywood movies.

Derek rolled his eyes but complied, sliding onto his knees on the tiled floor. He waited while Balaclava proved that he indeed could get more cliché by producing a sack for the clerk to put the money from the register in. It only took a few minutes for the police to arrive, and if Balaclava wasn’t so hopeless he would have been finished by then. The officer walked into the store with his gun drawn and obscured Balaclava’s view of him. Derek inched into an aisle, not wanting to get in the middle of a firefight, regardless of whether or not the bullets would actually damage him. Derek hadn’t been shot before but he sure as hell didn’t want to find out what it felt like. By the sound of it the officer was putting Balaclava in handcuffs over by the register. Derek began to stand to leave when a second balaclava-wearing robber rushed down the aisle and towards the officer. Derek was in perfect positon at the end of the aisle to punch Balaclava 2.0 in the side of the head as he rushed past, knocking him out cold on the floor.

“Well, shit,” the officer muttered. He moved to slap handcuffs on the second guy and radioed for a second car. Derek started to brush off his pant legs when the smell of Stiles hit him like a brick. The smell was obscured by another scent, but it was definitely emitting from the officer in undertones. Derek glanced at him and noticed the sheriff’s badge pinned to the man’s shirt. Stiles’ father then. Derek was pulled back to reality when the Sheriff clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, son. That could have turned real nasty if you hadn’t seen that guy coming.”

Derek nodded. “No problem, sir,” he replied. “Not to be too forward, but are you Stiles’ father?” The Sheriff looked surprised for a moment before pulling his expression back.

“Yes. Are you a friend of his from school?” He was studying Derek with far more scrutiny than he would have liked.

“Uh, yeah,” Derek replied. He supposed he and Stiles could be called friends. He couldn’t exactly tell the Sheriff that Stiles was his mate. _Stiles_ didn’t even know he was his mate. Or what a mate was. Derek definitely had some groundwork to do.

“Well how about you pop round for dinner tomorrow night as a thank you for saving my bacon?” the Sheriff asked.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” And Derek would. Any chance to see Stiles is one he would take.

Derek’s family had laughed at him when he’d stumbled back into the house after going down to the station to give a statement, and had explained how his night had gone.

“Only you, Der,” Laura had said with what Derek hoped was endearment.

Cora had followed up with “you punched an armed robber in the face, you’re basically a certified badass.”

Derek wondered if Stiles would think he was a badass.

 

***

 

Apparently Stiles hadn’t even known Derek was coming, much to Derek’s amusement.

Derek had knocked on the door at 5:30 sharp the next day, his skin buzzing at the feel of Stiles’ heartbeat getting closer. Stiles had thrown open the door with a smile on his face which quickly disappeared into a look of pure terror. He’d let out a “meep” before stumbling back from the door and running up the stairs. Derek stared after him with a confused look on his face. The Sheriff rounded the corner to shake his hand.

“Sorry about Stiles, he’s been jumpy all week,” the Sheriff explained. Derek just nodded. Stiles appeared a few minutes later in a completely new outfit from the original graphic tee and khakis that he had answered the door in; instead he slid into his seat at the table clad in tight jeans and a dark sweater which made the moles on his neck stand out even more against his pale skin. Derek’s mouth watered at the sight.

“Here we are, Stiles’ world famous lasagna,” the Sheriff declared, placing a large glass dish onto the table.

“World famous, really, Dad?” Stiles asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You made this?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded with a grin. Stiles was a ridiculously perfect mate and Derek was probably going to die.

“So tell me Derek,” Stiles began as Derek and the Sheriff tucked into the lasagna which was _good,_ the Sheriff hadn’t been exaggerating. “Are you a freaking superhero or something? Because that’s like four times now you’ve swooped in all Clark Kent to rescue Stilinski men.” The Sheriff and Derek both raised an eyebrow. “First you keep me from dying of either hunger or food poisoning from the god awful cafeteria food, then you stopped my untimely demise from legitimate frostbite, then you rescue me from the side of the road when my Jeep’s in the shop, and now you’ve legitimately saved my Dad.” Stiles ticked the list off on his fingers. Fingers that Derek should not be focusing on whilst at the table with the Sheriff. The things he wanted to do with those fingers definitely should not be thought about it whilst in the presence of parents.

“So can you take off your shirt and reveal your super suit or something already,” Stiles continued. Derek didn’t miss the “or just take off your shirt in general” Stiles muttered under his breath.

“What can I say, I’m a regular Bruce Wayne,” Derek teased, winking at Stiles. Stiles choked on his mouthful. The Sheriff raised an eyebrow.

Eventually the conversation drifted into far safer territory of school and what classes Derek was taking.

“I didn’t know you were taking so many AP’s,” Stiles said, eyeing Derek up.

“Yeah, it’s a hard workload but it’ll be worth it in the end. I like a challenge.” Derek winked at Stiles again. Stiles didn’t choke that time. Almost, but not quite.

“Stiles is taking AP classes too,” the Sheriff bragged. “Doing well, too, from what I hear.”

“Dad, no,” Stiles said, blushing slightly. “Anyway, the AP classes aren’t even the problem. I’d take four extra ones if I could get out of economics. It’s terrible and doesn’t make any sense.”

“I could help you with economics,” Derek offered before he could stop himself.

“Really? You know economics?” Stiles asked, his face brightening considerably.

“Yeah, I know heaps about economics,” Derek replied. Derek knew nothing about economics. But he could definitely learn. Fuck, Erica was going to die laughing at him if she ever heard about Derek’s awful plan. “I’d be happy to help you.”

“Great,” Stiles cried, clapping his hands together. “Could you do tomorrow after school?” Derek nodded, flashing Stiles a smile. The conversation moved away from Derek’s economic knowledge, but Stiles didn’t stop smiling at him for the rest of the meal, so Derek considered that a huge win. Eventually, after stuffing himself completely full of lasagna Stiles walked Derek to the door to say goodbye. The Sheriff shook Derek’s hand and sent him off with a Tupperware container full of more lasagna. Stiles leaned against the doorframe looking at Derek who was regarding the plastic container in his hands with a fond smile.

“Are you really okay with helping me study? You weren’t just saying that for my Dad’s benefit, or anything?” Stiles was biting his lip. Derek stared at his mouth for a moment, imagining all the things he could do with it when Stiles cleared his throat. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth slightly, letting it go with a small sound. Derek let out a small whine. Stiles clearly knew he was affecting him if the smirk was any indication. “I’ll take that as you being fine with it,” Stiles laughed. “Meet you at your car after school?” Derek nodded. He couldn’t stop staring at Stiles’ mouth, even as he said goodbye to his mate.

As he walked down the path to his car Derek tuned into the conversation happening behind the closed front door.

“Stiles,” the Sheriff said with a tone that said he knew exactly what was going on.

“I have no idea what you’re insinuating, Dad,” Stiles replied. Derek could _hear_ the smirk plant itself on Stiles’ face. “He’s just going to help me study.”

“In the lounge room,” the Sheriff warned. “He’s going to help you _study_ in the lounge room.” Derek smiled at Stiles’ noise of disapproval before sliding into his car and driving off.

 

***

 

“Boyd, can I borrow your economics textbook,” Derek asked the next day.

“Why? Do you even take economics?”

Derek ignored the question. “I just need if for a bit and then I’ll give it back. You won’t even know it’s gone.”

“Fine, I’ll bring it to lunch but I need it back by Wednesday. Finstock will have my ass if I don’t bring it to class.” Derek nodded enthusiastically. He’d spend his year’s printing budget photocopying all the pages in the textbook if he had to.

 

***

 

“Why are you so jumpy today?” Allison asked Stiles at lunch.

“I’m not jumpy,” Stiles lied. He so was. The reality that Derek was coming to his house to help him study had caught up with him and he was freaking out. He told Allison as much.

“Wait, he’s tutoring you? _Stiles_ that’s adorable,” Allison cried.

“You go, bro,” Scott clapped him on the back.

“Guys, it’s just economics,” Stiles started, but Allison cut him off.

“It’s not _just economics_ and you know it, that’s why you’re freaking out.” She regarded him with knowing eyes. Stiles groaned and dropped his head onto his crossed forearms.

“Is this like a date? Should I call this a date? Oh god should I have flowers or something?” Stiles asked, his eyes darting between his friends.

“A study date is definitely not a date-date,” Allison said. Scott patted his shoulder. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t make a move, though.”

“How do I even make a move?” Stiles wailed. Scott just continued patting his shoulder.

 

***

 

True to his word, Stiles is leaning against the Camaro when Derek walks across the parking lot after the final bell. He had spent lunch in the library cramming harder than he ever had for any of his own tests after drilling Boyd about where the class was up to when he handed over the textbook with extreme suspicion, which Derek had waved off.

“Really, what do you think I’m going to do with an economics textbook, Boyd?”

“I don’t know but you’re up to something.” Derek didn’t appreciate Boyd’s curiosity. He didn’t want to deal with Erica’s extreme levels of amusement if she found out.

“Ready to get your economics on, big guy?” Stiles asked cheerily as Derek unlocked the car. He rolled his eyes in response but flashed Stiles a smile. Stiles chattered happily about his day as they drove, his hands fluttering about in the space as he told a story about something Scott had done in English class. Derek thought it was extremely endearing.

Stiles skipped towards his front door when they pulled up at the Stilinski house, giving Derek an unobstructed view of his ass in his extremely tight jeans. Not that Derek was complaining. It was a nice view.

“So my Dad said we should set up in here,” Stiles said, gesturing to the lounge room after letting them both inside. “But he’s not here and my room’s way more comfortable.”

“Sounds good,” Derek replied. The scent of Stiles was everywhere in his room, as was his presence. Everything from the posters on the wall, to the books on the shelf, to the print of his bedspread screamed Stiles. Derek was in heaven.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll just go get us some drinks.” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows, making Derek laugh. Once Stiles was safely down the stairs Derek walked over to his bed and buried his face in Stiles’ pillow. Which he would never tell anyone about, ever. Because the creep factor would be off the charts. After a moment of inhaling his mate’s scent, Derek emptied his backpack and arranged the books on the floor. Stiles came back carrying two glasses of juice and a sleeve of Pringles, which he offered to Derek. The snack was so very _Stiles_ that Derek had to laugh as he took some. Stiles flopped down next to him and leaned against the bed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes for a moment. The position had Derek’s eyes zeroing in on the pale expanse of his neck. He could see Stiles’ pulse throbbing under the thin skin of his throat. He wanted to get his teeth on it. Stiles opened one eye and stared back at Derek. They stayed like that for a few moments before Derek broke the look and flipped open the economics textbook. The saving grace was that Stiles moved far closer, obviously not intending to dig out his own textbook. When their sides pressed against each other Derek stopped being able to breathe.

“So what is it you need help with?” Derek asked after retraining himself on how to take in air. He still wasn’t sure he had it down pat.

“Ugh, everything,” Stiles declared. “Finstock is terrible at explanations. Also he hates me.” Derek bristled at that and Stiles laughed. “You going to head down to the school and defend my honor again, Der?” Derek’s preening at the nickname was pathetically obvious.

“Did you like it last time?” Derek teased.

“Yeah,” Stiles whispered breathily, and Derek hadn’t noticed how close their faces had gotten. He leaned in and brushed his nose against Stiles’, listening to the small exhale Stiles let out at the contact. Stiles’ eyes were flicking over his face, his wide brown eyes boring into Derek’s. Just as Derek was about to suggest that they get back to studying Stiles leaned in and pressed their lips together, throwing thoughts of economics so far off Derek wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to retrieve them because his _mate_ was kissing him.

Stiles’ lips were soft and slightly thicker than Derek’s own, and Derek let himself melt into the kiss as Stiles moved his lips against Derek’s. Like flipping a switch Derek let go, and wrapped one hand around the back of Stiles’ neck, placing the other on his back to draw him in further. Stiles gasped into Derek’s mouth when he bit his mate’s plush lips, soothing over the imprint with his tongue. He could smell the thickening scent of Stiles’ arousal and felt his own cock begin to stiffen in response. Stiles groaned and fisted his hands in Derek’s shirt, twisting the material and bringing Derek closer to him, their upper bodies completely pressed together. Derek made a noise of approval and dragged Stiles onto his lap without breaking the kiss, gripping the back of Stiles’ head to force their lips together even harder. Stiles moaned when their hips pressed together, and grinded down onto Derek slightly. Derek pulled his mouth off of Stiles’ and moved it to his neck, sucking marks onto the pale skin, grinding upwards when his teeth nipped at Stiles’ pulse point.

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles gasped as they ground into each other. He sounded absolutely _wrecked_ and Derek damn near came in his pants from the sound alone. He moved a hand down between them to rub at Stiles’ bulge, getting a strangled moan in response.

“Shut up,” Stiles laughed as Derek smirked into his neck, his teeth leaving marks to match the moles already dotting the skin. He whimpered when Derek ground his palm onto his erection, his head falling onto Derek’s shoulder. “You should probably stop that,” he advised.

“And why’s that?” Derek asked, biting down on Stiles’ earlobe.

“Beca – oh fuck – _because_ I might cum in my pants if you don’t,” Stiles said, his fingers digging into Derek’s shoulders. For the first time Derek wished he didn’t heal instantly, because those bruises were something he would have liked to keep.

“Maybe I want you to,” Derek teased. He brought his mouth back to Stiles’, licking inside and dragging their tongues together. Stiles started to grind against his palm harder, letting out small whimpers as he did so. Derek pulled back for a moment to glance at Stiles’ face, and he looked beautiful. Stiles snorted and Derek realized he must have said it out loud. “I stand by that statement,” Derek whispered into Stiles’ neck. Stiles reached down to undo the button on his jeans, the sound of the zipper drowned out by their breathing. Derek knocked his hands away and undid Stiles’ jeans the rest of the way, reaching into his boxers to pull him out.

“Fuck,” Stiles whimpered, dragging Derek’s mouth back onto his own. Derek began to stroke him faster, listening to what drew out moans from Stiles and repeating the movements. “Der, I’m close,” Stiles groaned. He shoved his face into Derek’s neck and allowed himself to be held there by Derek’s hand on the back of his neck.

“It’s ok, baby, gonna take care of you,” Derek whispered, kissing Stiles’ cheek as he sped up his movements. “Always gonna take care of you,” he said as Stiles moaned loudly and spurted into his hand and across his own shirt. Stiles went boneless in Derek’s arms, leaning heavily on him and mouthing at his neck. Derek shifted Stiles slightly to get at his own throbbing erection, grinding up into his palm and coming almost instantly, throwing his head back against the bed and moaning Stiles’ name. When he came to Stiles was watching him with heavy lidded eyes, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth. Derek flashed a lazy grin at Stiles who giggled in response.

“We just hooked up during a study date, we’re officially the most cliché people I know,” Stiles giggled. Derek chuckled and leaned in to kiss Stiles again, their lips moving lazily against one another. Stiles grimaced and pulled back, glancing down at his shirt which was streaked with cum. “I should probably change.”

Derek nodded and stretched his arms above his head when Stiles clambered off of him in about as graceful a manner as one could expect of Stiles. He glanced at Derek as he stripped his shirt off, hunching over slightly like he was trying to hide himself, straightening back up and laughing at when Derek made a noise of disapproval.

“So my Dad will be home soon…” Stiles hinted after glancing at his phone. Which brought up a list of embarrassing messages from both Scott and Allison about how the study date was going. Messages which became increasingly more excited and lewd in tone as they went unanswered, culminating in Allison asking him how big Derek’s dick was. Which … Christ.

“Guess I’ll head off then. We, uh, didn’t exactly get much done…” Derek trailed off.

“Want to come round tomorrow to actually do some work? I wasn’t kidding about needing the help,” Stiles joked. “I have lacrosse practice right after school but after that?”

“I’ll be there,” Derek declared. He gathered his books and shoved them into his bag, throwing it over his shoulder. He followed Stiles down the stairs, stopping in the doorway to press a kiss to Stiles’ lips before walking out to his car.

 

***

 

Stiles watched Derek with quiet appreciation, eyes flicking down to the way his jeans hugged his ass. Stiles had tapped that. _Stiles had tapped that._ After closing the door he let out a whoop and high fived himself. Derek was quite possibly the hottest person Stiles had ever seen and Stiles had been all up on that. That’s it, the experience was officially going on his resume. Stiles skipped back up the stairs and into the bathroom, deciding he should probably shower in case there was cum drying on his skin. _That_ would definitely culminate in an awkward conversation with his Dad. He gasped when he saw himself in the mirror, red and purple marks dotting his neck and collarbone and standing out starkly against his pale skin.

“Fuck,” Stiles muttered. “Derek you absolute _vampire_.” He picked up his phone, and opened up the camera app.

To Derek: _I might need to change your contact name to Edward Cullen [1 image attachment]_

To Allison: _I may need to borrow some concealer [1 image attachment]_

His phone chimed almost immediately and Stiles dived for it, nearly sending it flying off the bathroom counter and on to the tile.

From Allison: _Honey, you’re gonna need the whole Sephora counter for that one_

From Allison: _Good thing I own practically the whole Sephora counter. I’m also the proud owner of several scarves, of which you will be given the brightest and most embarrassing colours to mark your transition to manhood._

Ten minutes later Derek texted back _I’ll concede to being Edward as long as you’re Bella. Though I’m more of a Jacob man myself._

Stiles probably shouldn’t have found the _Twilight_ reference as endearing as he did.

 

***

 

Allison picked Stiles up in her Mazda the next morning with Scott in the passenger seat grinning and looking like a god damn Labrador.

“Welcome to manhood,” Scott yelled when Stiles opened the rear door.

“How’d you manage to hide that from your dad?” Allison asked, eyes fixed on Stiles’ neck.

“With great difficulty. I look like a freaking connect-the-dots worksheet,” Stiles whined, flopping into the seat behind Scott.

“Worth it, though?” Scott asked, twisting around in his seat as far as the seatbelt would let him.

“You know it,” Stiles grinned and high fived Scott. Allison rolled her eyes at them.

When they reached the school parking lot Allison pulled her makeup bag from her backpack and got to work applying various liquids and powders to Stiles’ neck.

“It’s not gone, but it’s better,” she declared after a few minutes. “You should probably still wear a scarf just in case.” She handed Stiles a – thankfully modest – dark blue scarf which he hung around his neck.

Derek was leaning against Stiles’ locker with an earbud in one ear staring into the distance when Stiles walked up. He smirked at the sight of Allison’s scarf but at least had to decency to look halfway guilty.

“Sorry about that,” he said, gesturing towards the scarf.

“I’m just glad it wasn’t something pink this time,” Stiles replied, gently nudging Derek away from his locker door. Though he probably had a free pass to be rough with Derek now, considering the state of his neck. “You’re forgiven. It’ll be my turn next time, so watch out.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Derek, butterflies fluttering in his stomach when Derek laughed.

“You can try,” he teased. He closed his locker and went to hoist his backpack onto his shoulder when Derek took it from him and pulled it over his own leader-clad arm.

“Nope, sorry, but I’m not the girl here,” Stiles announced, grabbing for his backpack. Derek just stepped backwards.

“Neither of us is the girl, Stiles,” Derek sighed. “And we both know that you secretly do want me to carry this for you. And walk you to class, and maybe even kiss you goodbye if you’re good about it.”

“Ok, fine. But I get to carry your backpack next time.” Derek just smiled at him.

And he must have decided Stiles was good about it because he did indeed kiss him goodbye outside his English classroom.

 

***

 

“Did I or did I not see you walk Stiles to his classroom this morning,” Erica asked when Derek joined them for lunch halfway through the period. He’d been in the library studying Boyd’s economics textbook again, but no way in hell was he telling her that.

“It’s funny you say that, Erica, because I saw it too,” Isaac continued in a faux confused tone. “And unless we’re all having a mass hallucination Derek Hale’s gotten himself hitched and not told us.”

“A gentleman never tells,” Derek teased, flicking a fry at Isaac.

“How’d you go with the textbook?” Boyd asked. He had a glimmer in his eye that told Derek he was probably fucked. “You know, the economics textbook that you mysteriously needed to borrow yesterday that I’m sure has absolutely no correlation as to why Stilinski is wearing a scarf today that does not match the rest of his outfit in the slightest.” Fuck. Derek stared at the table and refused to look up. Until Erica and Isaac’s laughter became too loud to ignore, that was.

“I’m helping him study economics,” Derek hissed, shifting his glare between the three of them. He hoped it burned holes in their heads.

“Are you sure it’s not _chemistry_ ,” Isaac said through laughs.

“Or biology,” Boyd supplied, shooting an evil grin Derek’s way.

“Or how about _physical_ education,” Erica spluttered out. Derek hated his friends.

“Wait, Derek, you don’t even take economics,” Isaac cried, delving into another fit of laughter.

“He’s _never_ taken economics,” Boyd yelled, finally dissolving into laughter himself.

“I’m disowning all of you,” Derek declared.

Though they spent the next ten minutes laughing at him they did all end up commending him on his efforts, so that was something at least.

“So you’re going to his after school again today?” Erica asked with a grin. “Did you need condoms?”

“No,” Derek replied instantly. “Actually, maybe? But I’ll only take them if you promise not to make a _Mean Girls_ reference.”

“Honey, I won’t even ask if you want anything else, even snacks,” Erica retorted. Derek just scowled.

“Are you coming to practice today, then?” Isaac spoke up.

“As much as I love you, Isaac, I have no desire to see you running around in tight pants and getting sweaty on the field.”

“But what about Stiles? He’s on the team, you idiot.” Isaac was shaking his head in shame.

Stiles in tight pants and getting sweaty on the field was definitely something Derek was up for. At least one part him was definitely _up_ for it, anyway.

“Oh god, he’s got that doughy look on his face. Isaac, what have you done?” Erica groaned. Derek just threw a fry at her.

 

***

 

Stiles looked good in red, if Derek said so himself. The sight conjured up lots of Little Red Riding Hood-esque images that were definitely not appropriate to be having on school grounds. Or when he was sitting next to his little sister, who was apparently trying to woo someone on the lacrosse team as well.

“ _Ew_ why do you smell like arousal, Derek, _stop,_ ” Cora cried, shoving his side.

“Shut up,” Derek retorted, turning his eyes back to the field. He watched Stiles land a perfect practice shot and resisted standing up and clapping loudly. He was pretty sure Stiles wouldn’t appreciate it.

“What number is Isaac again?” Cora asked.

“No idea,” Derek replied. Stiles passed a shot to one of his teammates who scored. Derek decided to count that as another goal for Stiles.

“How can you be waiting for Isaac but not even know which number he is?”

“I’m not waiting for Isaac,” Derek snorted, barely paying attention to Cora, who was suddenly becoming supremely interested in the conversation. She nudged him hard enough in the ribs to break his concentration, forcing him to look at her. They stared at each other – Cora’s eyebrows raised questioningly and Derek’s face deadpan – before he broke.

“I’m waiting for Stiles. He’s new here so I’m helping him catch up on economics.”

“You don’t take economics,” Cora replied immediately.

“Why does everyone apparently know my class schedule?” Derek cried, throwing his hands up in the air.

“You’re an idiot,” Cora replied, but thankfully left him alone to watch the team practice. Aka ogle Stiles from the stands.

 

***

 

Stiles didn’t notice Derek waiting for him in the stands until after he came out of the locker room, freshly showered and reeking of Axe by osmosis. His face broke into a grin and he rushed over to where Derek was, only just stopping himself from jumping on his back and wrapping his arms and legs around him.

“You were really good out there today,” Derek said, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist. And Stiles’ brain went offline because a few of Derek’s fingers slipped under his shirt and brushed against his skin and it’s torture because now he knows _exactly_ what those fingers can do. He’s seen them wrapped around his dick and stroking him to orgasm and – _and_ Stiles needs a cold shower ASAP.

“You’re ridiculous,” Stiles declared once they’re in the car on route to Stiles’ house, having avoided any embarrassing boners.

“And why’s that?” Derek asked. Oh god he’s _humoring_ him. And that proves Stiles’ point exactly.

“Well you’re all … that,” Stiles gestured towards Derek’s overall person. “This leather jacket wearing, moody, murder-eyes dude. But then you also open car doors for me and carry my backpack and spend half your lunch period driving to get me pizza – which is delicious, by the way, and I’m eternally in your debt – hence, your ridiculousness.”

“Uh huh” is Derek’s reply. And he’s smiling fondly at Stiles. Stiles is pretty sure he won’t survive Derek Hale, though in a completely different way to what he thought when he first saw him.

They stop to get take-out on the way and Derek buys Stiles the biggest box of curly fries the place sells, and only takes one.

Stiles’ Dad is home when they get there, so they have to sit in the lounge room and _actually_ study, which Stiles totally didn’t sign up for. Well, it’s exactly what he signed up for but he’s retracting his signature now that he knows what getting a hand job from Derek Hale when they’re _supposed_ to be studying feels like. Stiles’ protests have a 0% success rate, and they end up with their books spread out over the coffee table at a respectable distance from each other incase Stiles’ Dad decides to walk in. Which he did. Repeatedly.

After the third time of Stiles asking Derek to explain a concept in a better format than Finstock was able to, he finally clues in.

“Derek?” Stiles rested his chin on his palm and watched Derek flip through the textbook in front of him, trying to find the chapter Stiles had been talking about.

“Yeah?” His concentration face was really adorable.

“You don’t know anything about economics, do you?”

Derek looked like a deer in the headlights for a moment before confidently declaring “well, I’ve watched _Wolf of Wall Street_ ”. Stiles burst out laughing and leaned across the coffee table, pulling Derek in by the front of his shirt. He pressed their mouths together as best he could since he was having trouble controlling his laughter.

“You absolute _goober_ ,” Stiles laughed into Derek’s cheek. Derek turned his face into Stiles’ neck and started _nuzzling_ him or something. It made Stiles’ insides melt. Derek drew back just before Stiles’ Dad walked back into the room. He shot Stiles a shy smile and mouthed _sorry._ Stiles found that he didn’t even mind.

“So, if you still want to help me practice we could try lacrosse instead?” Stiles asked after they’d packed away the economics materials and Derek had promised to pry Boyd’s notes off of him for Stiles to look at.

“I can do that. Fair warning though, I’ve never played lacrosse.” Derek moved to nuzzle back into the crook of Stiles’ neck, his short stubble lighting up Stiles’ skin.

“That’s fine,” Stiles replied, making a real effort to keep his voice steady. He shouldn’t have started thinking about Derek getting hot and sweaty and hopefully taking his shirt off as a result. The fantasy had drifted off towards sex under the stands, and Stiles had to shake his head from side to side to clear his thoughts. Derek was smirking at him as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. Which, if his train of thought was the same, Stiles might actually get to enact his fantasies after all.

“There’s a game on Friday. You should come. If you want to, I mean.” Stiles held his breath, waiting for Derek’s answer which, of course, was a yes.

 

***

 

The next day at school Derek skipped the end of American History and drove to Stiles’ favourite take-out place to get a huge box of curly fries and a strawberry milkshake, and deposited it on the table in front of him during lunch.

“You’re the best,” Stiles squealed as he dug in, shoving a huge handful of curly fries into his mouth at once. “No seriously, the _best_ ,” Stiles moaned when he sucked the milkshake up through the straw. The sound combined with the visual of Stiles’ hollowed cheeks sent Derek running to the bathroom to jerk himself off as quietly as possible before anyone could see his erection.

 

***

 

It’s cold enough on the night of the lacrosse game that Derek wants to run onto the field and wrap his jacket around Stiles. His mate’s arms and legs are exposed to the wind and he’s shivering slightly, standing huddled in on himself.

“Excited to see your boy play?” Erica asked, poking him in the arm. Derek nodded excitedly, applauding when the teams make their way onto the field. Once Stiles is in position he glances up to the stands and locks eyes with Derek. He smiles wide enough that Derek can see it through his helmet, and Erica coos at Derek’s blush. He pokes her back and searches the other players on the field to lock down Isaac’s number.

Beacon Hills ends up winning by a handful of points and Derek joins the crowd in standing and applauding when the teams run off the field after the final whistle. Stiles looks ecstatic, slapping his teammates on the back and joking around with his Coach, throwing his head back in laughter whenever anyone makes a joke.

Eventually Stiles emerged from the locker rooms, jogging to meet Derek and throwing his arms around him. Derek grabbed him by the waist and spun him around like in an old romance movie, making Stiles dissolve into peals of laughter.

“You were amazing out there,” Derek smiled, pulling Stiles in for a quick kiss.

“Thought I’d be warming the bench all season, but apparently beginners luck is a real thing,” Stiles joked. He wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders and pulled him down to press their mouths together. “Or maybe you’re my lucky charm.”

“Guess I’ll have to come to all your games just in case,” Derek smiled. Stiles’ eyes were practically gleaming with happiness.

“Should I order you a jersey with my number on it? Reserve a seat for you in the girlfriend section?” Stiles joked. Derek heard his heartbeat stutter and knew Stiles wasn’t completely joking.

“Maybe not the girlfriend section, but the boyfriend one I could definitely do.” He smiled and nipped at Stiles’ nose, enjoying the squealing sound Stiles emitted when his teeth came into contact with his skin.

 

***

 

Stiles didn’t really need Derek’s help practicing lacrosse, but he would make damn sure he still got it. After scoring more in the game than even _Jackson_ Stiles decided he must have broken through a wall or something, like a marathon runner. Even if he didn’t strictly _need_ the help, what he did need was to see Derek sweaty and preferably shirtless. Even more preferably on top of Stiles whilst shirtless and sweaty.

The Jeep was finally up and running again for the time being so Stiles met Derek at the school on a Sunday for their first lacrosse practice session. Stiles ended up giving Derek somewhat of a personal training session rather than practicing lacrosse, because Derek was apparently fast, quick, and _competitive._ Which was exactly like Stiles. They ended up having running races up and down the field to see who would win, each pulling past each other at the last second. Eventually Stiles just tackled Derek and pinned him into the grass, kissing him deeply and leaving him lying on the ground breathless while Stiles trotted towards the finish line. Derek got his own back by dragging Stiles to the ground and rutting against him until they both came in their shorts, but Stiles was pretty sure that was a win for him as well.

“I can’t drive home like this,” Stiles whined, flicking the waistband of his shorts. Derek snorted and swatted his hand away.

“Let’s have a shower then,” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. Stiles snorted at him. Their student ID’s let them access the thankfully empty locker room, and Stiles deposited his bag in his usual locker. He turned around to ask Derek if he wanted first shower to see Derek’s clothes lying in a heap on the floor and his perfect ass completely on display as he walked toward the showers. Stiles stopped breathing for a moment and whipped his shirt over his head so fast it somehow got caught around his elbows and ear. His dick started to take interest when he heard the shower start up, steam slowly making its way towards Stiles. He almost felt the need to give himself a pep talk.

“Stiles, you coming?” Derek called from the showers, his voice bouncing off the tiles and sounding like music to Stiles’ ears. He stripped off his shorts and underwear, grimacing at the feel of the caked on cum that had dried on his skin. He rounded the corner to see Derek looking like a god damn Adonis standing under the shower spray, his face tipped back and water running down his body in streams. Stiles’ eyes immediately went to his cock which was fully upright and standing to attention. It was the first time Stiles had actually seen Derek’s cock and he really, _really_ wanted to get his mouth on it. Derek shook the water off his face and smiled at Stiles, holding a hand out for him to come closer. Stiles moved to stand under the same showerhead as Derek, knowing that was where he would end up eventually. He pressed himself against Derek and let the water run down his face and chest. He bit Derek’s shoulder teasingly and Derek growled, pushing their lips together under the spray. Stiles gasped at the feeling of their bare erections brushing against each other, the warm water running over them teasingly. Derek slipped his tongue into Stiles’ mouth and rubbed the muscles against each other, making Stiles weak at the knees. They wrapped their arms around each other and slotted their hips together, Stiles grinding hard into Derek and making him curse. Derek spun Stiles around so they were chest to back, Derek’s cock pressing into Stiles’ ass. Stiles damn near lost his mind, and braced himself on the tiled wall, grinding his ass back into Derek with force.

“God, Stiles,” Derek moaned. He rested his forehead on the back of Stiles’ neck and reached around to jerk him off lazily, his fingers gripping tight under the head and swiveling at the base.

“You gonna fuck me?” Stiles asked breathily, but Derek shook his head.

“Not here. It’s … it should be more special. For both of us.”

“You gonna bring out the candles and scatter some rose petals?” Stiles teased, continuing to grind back into Derek. His cock slipped between his cheeks and brushed over his hole, and he let out a low moan.

“Something like that” was all Derek could muster up before he sunk to his knees and pulled Stiles’ cheeks apart, lapping at his hole. Stiles’ knees began to shake almost immediately, and he leaned further into the wall to support himself. He was so extremely glad that nobody else was likely to be in the school, because they probably would have heard his ridiculously needy moans from across the building. He was babbling nonsense in between whimpers and curses and he was pretty sure he had lost the ability to think somewhere around the time Derek dipped a finger in alongside his tongue.

With a final “fuck, Der” Stiles came with a shout, biting down on his own forearm hard enough to draw blood. Derek was up in a flash, pushing Stiles against the cool wall and manhandling his legs together, pushing his cock in between them. It dragged against Stiles’ wrung out balls with every thrust, and he was sure if he hadn’t just come that probably would have done it. Stiles twisted slightly to mouth at Derek’s neck and ear, whispering praises and encouragement into the skin. He bit down on Derek’s earlobe as he came, spurting cum onto the insides of Stiles’ thighs and over his balls. Stiles turned to kiss Derek, directing them both back under the warm spray. They washed the evidence of both rounds from their skin and dried each other off afterwards, Stiles remarking on Derek’s ‘baby duckling’ hair after he’d dried it vigorously with a towel.

That night Stiles’ phone buzzed with a text from Derek saying _want to come to mine for dinner next Friday after the game?_

Stiles responded with an affirmative _yes :)_

 

***

 

Laura and Cora reacted exactly how Derek assumed they would when he asked his Mom for permission to bring Stiles around for dinner: with jest on Cora’s part and teasing on Laura’s.

“So, is he cute? Derek’s boyfriend?” Laura asked Cora over their Mom’s lasagna. Derek noted with perverse satisfaction that it wasn’t as good as Stiles’. His was world famous, after all.

“None of your business,” Derek grumbled into his plate.

“Sure,” Laura said sarcastically.

“I’d say he’s cute,” Cora supplied. “Big eyes, all the better to see Derek with.” She chuckled at her own reference.

“We can’t wait to meet him, Der,” his Mom said, looking at him reassuringly.

 

***

 

Over the course of the next week Stiles and Derek gradually morphed their friend groups into one, introducing Scott and Allison to Erica, Isaac, and Boyd. The groups seemed to like each other fine, and bonded over light teasing of Stiles and Derek. Derek had taken to bringing Stiles lunch every day, whether it be his favourite pepperoni pizza, curly fries or actual chicken nuggets, and Stiles was pretty sure he was in heaven.

Derek had also taken up a new hobby of car repairs after listening to Stiles talk about how his Jeep was on the fritz yet again, and his Dad couldn’t afford to buy him anything new. Laura and Cora found Derek’s research infinitely entertaining, while his parents smiled fondly at him and whispered about ‘young love’. He had learnt from his economics mistake though – he wouldn’t try to help Stiles with the Jeep until he actually knew what he was doing, lest he mess it up again.

Friday comes up on them all too fast and Derek sits in the stands with Erica and Boyd again, this time accompanied by Allison and Scott as well. They cheered on Stiles and Isaac, watching as the two played off each other and scored a handful of points for their team.

“Guess your lacrosse training sessions are working out well?” Allison remarked when Stiles caught a pass from Jackson and shot it right into the net. Derek blushed remembering what their training had turned into, and his friends dissolved into laughter around him. At the end of the game Stiles presented Derek with a mock jersey with Stiles’ name and number on the back. Derek pulled it over his head immediately and kissed him breathless in front of his classmates.

They drove to Derek’s house separately, Stiles pulling in behind the Camaro when they reached the Hale house. Derek could feel Stiles’ anxiety when he got out of the Jeep; it soured his scent and Derek had to nuzzle into his neck to get it back to normal again.

“It’ll be fine,” Derek reassured Stiles, taking his hand as they walked up the porch steps. Laura threw open the front door before Derek could get his hand on the knob, her face breaking into a wide smile when she laid eyes on Stiles.

“Well aren’t you something,” she said, eyes taking on an almost predatory glint. Derek growled under his breath, too quietly for Stiles to hear, but just loud enough that Laura should heed the warning. Stiles dutifully introduced himself to Derek’s family members, taking their basic questions in stride and laughing at every lame joke thrown at him. Derek could feel his Mother’s gaze on him, and when he turned to glance at her she gestured for him to follow her into her study. After whispering to Stiles that he’d be only a moment he followed her into the room, leaving the door ajar so he could still hear Stiles’ heartbeat.

“Close the door,” his Mother directed. Derek did as he was told, letting the door swing shut and locking in place the final piece of soundproofing for the room.

“Everything alright?” Derek asked. His Mother regarded him for a moment before nodding.

“Are you aware Stiles is your mate?” she asked, watching his face for a reaction.

“How are _you_ aware?” Derek was taken aback.

“I’m not only your Mother, Derek, but also your Alpha. I can feel the pull between you two, the energy that radiates from the connection.”

“I knew straight away,” Derek explained. “I asked you about him, thinking he was an incubus or a witch. I did some research and figured it out.”

“He doesn’t know, does he?” she asked. Derek shook his head.

“He doesn’t know about that or about us. I don’t really know how to tell him.”

“He’s your mate, honey. He’ll understand even if it takes him some time.” Derek swallowed and nodded. He knew he would have to tell Stiles eventually, and it really was getting to be about time.

“I’ll tell him soon,” Derek promised. His mother nodded and kissed his forehead, guided him out of the room. Stiles was sitting on the floor with Cora looking at baby photos of Derek, giggling over one which was probably the awful picture of Derek in the bathtub as a kid. He hated that photo and Cora knew it. He slipped down next to Stiles, rubbing his face into his mate’s neck. He stayed that way until his Mother called them in for dinner, serving up Stiles first as a show of respect to Derek. Stiles didn’t pick up on it but it made Derek preen.

Derek tried to pry Stiles away from his sisters after dinner, but apparently they had both completely fallen in love with Stiles’ snarky humor and quick wit. Stiles was like the missing piece in the Hale family, the part of Derek that didn’t fit in with his sisters at all. Derek had been praying for his sisters to not bring up Derek’s newfound mechanics hobby, but of course they did.

“So, Stiles, has Derek gotten around to fixing your car yet?” Laura asked, flashing a smirk Derek’s way.

“Is that an innuendo?” Stiles laughed, squeezing Derek’s hand.

“No. He’s been pouring over books on how to fix up your car since he says it’s always breaking. Der, you lazy ass, why haven’t you done it yet?” Laura teased. Stiles’ eyes went wide and he stared at Derek.

“Alright, I’m taking Stiles away from you two,” Derek said to Laura and Cora, taking Stiles’ hand and pulling him towards the stairs. He only turned to face him once they were in Derek’s bedroom with the door closed. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but Stiles pressing him into the wood of the door and kissing him hard enough that his lips should have been bruised definitely wasn’t his first assumption.

“You beautiful, perfect, _ridiculous_ idiot,” Stiles said in between presses of lips.

“I’m sorry if it was too much,” Derek started before Stiles cut him off.

“ _You’re_ too much, Derek Hale,” he declared. “I have no idea what I did to deserve you, but it must have been good.” Derek smiled into Stiles’ hair.

“There’s a couple of things I have to tell you,” Derek said after a moment. He checked to make sure his door was properly shut to prevent any sounds from leaving the room, and lead Stiles over to the bed.

“What, no rose petals,” Stiles joked, tugging Derek down next to him.

“Not what I was going for,” Derek chuckled, running his fingers down Stiles’ neck.

“Alright, lay it on me,” Stiles declared, leaning back against the wall.

“Um, well, first of all, I really like you.” Stiles snorted and Derek shot him a deadpan look.

“Right, sorry. Continue.”

“There’s something about me and my family I haven’t told you, and then there’s something about us. I haven’t really known how to tell you, but now’s as good a time as any.” Stiles was starting to look suspicious, regarding Derek with a less relaxed look than he had come into the room with. “My family is … different. Let’s just say we’re a lot more Jacob than Edward.”

“You may need to elaborate on that a bit more,” Stiles said. Derek nodded and allowed his fangs to drop and his claws to emerge from his fingers.

“A lot more like Jacob,” Derek said through a mouthful of teeth.

Stiles paused for a moment before yelling “were you cheating with _supernatural speed_ when we were racing each other?”

That was not the reaction Derek was anticipating. He told Stiles as much.

“Well, I kind of had a feeling,” Stiles confessed. “About you, and then when I met your family I was pretty sure there was something going on. I wasn’t sure what it was, but this makes sense. Well, as much sense as werewolves can realistically make, anyway.”

“There’s something else too.” Derek shifted back and moved to sit next to Stiles who leaned into him.

“Some werewolves have mates. It’s basically the werewolf version of a soulmate or ‘The One’. It’s pretty rare and most people never find theirs, but in case you haven’t guessed where this is going, you’re mine.” Derek leaned back to watch Stiles’ face as it settled in.

Once again Stiles defied Derek’s expectations by shouting “is _that_ why you were so weird to me the first week?”

“I thought you were an incubus. A sex demon,” Derek said sheepishly, ducking his head. Stiles let out a bark of laughter.

“Wow, I’m definitely holding on to that one as a future ego booster,” Stiles teased. “And, for the record, I’m glad I’m your mate.” He smiled at Derek and leaned up to kiss him sweetly, their lips moving against each other as Derek felt their mate connection wash over him. Stiles’ face was awash with wonder when they pulled back. “That feeling – was that the bond?”

“Yeah,” Derek answered. “But it’s not complete yet. It will be sealed when we, uh, consummate it.”

“Well, I guess we better get onto that then,” Stiles replied cheekily, flicking Derek’s nose with his finger.

 

***

 

It didn’t turn out to be candles and rose petals, but it was just as good, if not better. A few weeks later Derek took Stiles for a surprise date in the preserve, to a small clearing where he’d set up a tent. Derek disappeared inside it for a moment before emerging with a picnic basket and a rug which he laid out on the ground. Stiles teased him lightly as he fed him grapes.

“You do realize you’ll have to do this forever, right? I’ve tasted the joy of not feeding myself and not I’m not going back.”

“You’re a menace,” Derek declared, pushing the basket away and pressing Stiles into the rug, kissing the smile from his lips. Stiles wound his fingers into the hair on the back of Derek’s head, forcing him down harder and biting onto his lower lip. Derek groaned and shifted his hips to line them up, grinding their hardening cocks together. Stiles pushed Derek back in order to pull off his shirt, taking a nipple between his teeth and sucking at it, dragging his tongue over it to soothe the area afterwards. Derek pulled open Stiles’ button down with enough force to pop some of the buttons off, but Stiles couldn’t have given less of a shit.

“Pants off,” Stiles murmured into Derek’s mouth, sucking Derek’s tongue into his mouth and wrapping his own around it. Derek complied and dragged Stiles’ off too, leaving them both in just their underwear. Derek scooped Stiles up and carried him towards the tent, ignoring Stiles’ laughter that he wasn’t about to be carried over the threshold. He laid Stiles down on the thick nest of blankets, kissing him hard and wet, and their tongues meeting messily in the middle.

“You better be looking for lube,” Stiles growled into the mark he was sucking onto Derek’s neck. He’d discovered that as long as he kept sucking the healing couldn’t catch up.

“Bossy,” Derek said, pushing Stiles’ legs apart and sliding between them, grinding their erections together.

“Off, now,” Stiles moaned, tugging at Derek’s boxer briefs. Derek allowed him to pull them down, his flushed cock slapping against his stomach. Stiles immediately leaned down to suck Derek’s cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and pressing the tip of his tongue into the base of the head. Derek groaned and fell back into the blankets, Stiles moving with him. He pressed his fingers to Stiles’ lips and cheeks as his mate sucked him down, getting his cock right back into his throat.

“Your turn, baby,” Derek said, gently pulling Stiles off of him and flipping their positions, laying Stiles carefully down onto the blankets. He popped the cap on the lube and slicked up his fingers. Stiles spread his legs wide, the sight of it dragging whimpers from Derek. He hitched one of Stiles’ legs up and pressed a finger into him, marveling at how easily Stiles’ body opened for him already.

“Go two,” Stiles directed almost immediately, stroking his own cock lightly with those long fingers Derek had fantasized about. Derek complied, pushing a second finger into Stiles and crooking it, searching for the spot that would make Stiles light up. He found it with three fingers buried inside Stiles, his mate moaning wantonly and arching his back off the blankets.

“So good for me. So beautiful,” Derek babbled as he worked a fourth finger into Stiles. He was hitting his prostate with every thrust of the digits now, working Stiles right to the edge of orgasm. Stiles hooked a leg around his waist and attempted to pull him closer, making Derek chuckle.

“Please,” Stiles whimpered, and Derek couldn’t deny him. He pulled his fingers out and slicked up his cock. Stiles watched him as he positioned himself, bunching one of the blankets up under his hips and wrapping his long legs around his waist. Stiles threaded his fingers into Derek’s hair and pulled him down to press their lips together. Derek pulled his face back as he pushed into Stiles slowly, watched his mate’s eyes flutter closed, and felt his back arch to push their upper bodies together. Once Derek was fully seated he peppered kisses over Stiles’ face and neck, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear.

“Move, please move,” Stiles groaned, wrapping an arm around Derek’s shoulders and pushing his hips down to grind onto the cock buried inside him. Derek pulled out and pushed back in slowly, feeling Stiles’ muscles pull and push against him. He adjusted Stiles’ hip and thrust in again, hitting exactly what he was looking for.

“Oh my god,” Stiles moaned, digging his nails into Derek’s back and leaving trails of fire in his wake. Derek buried his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck and began to thrust with force, knowing neither of them would last very long.

“Christ, Stiles, you’re gorgeous,” Derek muttered as Stiles tipped his head back in another moan, his muscles tightening around Derek as he edged closer.

“I’m close, Der,” Stiles whimpered. “Go harder, I want us to cum together.” Derek swore and drove into Stiles hard, his mate screaming out in pleasure. Stiles reached down to touch himself, but Derek knocked his hand out of the way.

“You’re going to cum like this, baby,” he breathed into Stiles’ ear. “So good at taking what I’m giving you.”

“Yeah, just for you,” Stiles gasped. He could feel the orgasm curling in his belly, coiling and shifting. Stiles pressed his forehead to Derek’s as they went over the edge together, breathing into each other’s mouths, biting and clawing at each other’s skin. Stiles pulsed around Derek, his walls hot and tight as he came, spurting his release over their chests and making the tent smell of their combined scent. As they came to a stop Derek allowed his arms to give and he lay himself down over Stiles, nuzzling into his neck and licking at the small bite marks that had bloomed on his skin. Derek reached down to pull one of the blankets over them, shifting to the side so he was spooning Stiles rather than crushing him with his weight.

“We’re doing that again. All the time. As in, we’re never stopping,” Stiles declared, burrowing back into Derek.

“Agreed.” Derek could feel the mate bond pulsing and getting stronger, tying their souls together in a way that couldn’t be undone.

“Love you,” Stiles murmured sleepily. Derek smiled into the back of his neck and placed a soft kiss there. “I still can’t believe you left a dead deer on my porch, though.” Derek snorted and swatted at Stiles playfully.

“Trust you to turn a sweet moment into a joke about my werewolf instincts.”

“Der, I’d love you if you left a hundred dead deer on my porch, you sap,” Stiles teased. “But maybe for our anniversary we could just cook steak or something?”

“If you insist,” Derek joked. They lay there basking in the feel of the mate bond running through their bodies and sating them. Derek stroked a hand down Stiles’ side, feeling every dip of his ribs and curve of his hip.

“Thanks for not trying to kill me during my first week.” Stiles was definitely half asleep now.

“You’re welcome,” Derek smiled. As Stiles drifted off to sleep in his arms Derek’s wolf howled inside him, reveling in the feeling of his mate. Derek listened to Stiles’ heartbeat and sent a silent thanks to the sky for sending him Stiles.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life appreciating you,” Derek whispered into Stiles’ neck, before letting sleep take him.


End file.
